I'm from Massachusetts, USA. I work in mental health and, ironically, have been suffering with these feelings for 16 years now. You would never know it if you met me, but I guess that's how it goes to some degree. I have some strong views on suicide, though they are counterproductive to the work I do, so therefore, I keep these things to myself. I believe every emotion, experience is relative and therefore, deserves the same respect I would assign to my own suffering. I do however believe that there is hope for people, especially those young enough to change the patterns in their thinking before it becomes fixed. I remember still *secretly* having hope that things would change when I was young and suicidal. That hope diminishes after years and years of merely existing. The sting wears and the realness sets in. You begin to feel true fear, thoroughly grasping the gravity of the despair, when the little light no longer shines at the end of the tunnel. Fight for your life while you still can. Sounds dramatic, right? It's true though. There is an expiration date on hope.